


Salary for Wage

by grafitti



Series: Soon, Soon, I'll Fit In Too [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Can be read as stand-alone, Career Change, Corporations are evil, CyberLife offers Connor a job, Gen, Living Together, M/M, Multi, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Yeah this can be read as gen but it's gonna become hankcon 2 or 3 stories from now, as in in the series SSIFIT not "Salary for Wage", but it's not something that anyone expects, y'all are expectin somethin crazy but dont worry im here to be anticlimactic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-21 14:24:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15559698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grafitti/pseuds/grafitti
Summary: After the androids finally secure equality in the eyes of the government (although the fight is not over), Connor receives a congratulatory letter from CyberLife. The thing is, CyberLife also offered him a job.((Technically a sequel to Just Be Here but you can read this as stand-alone))





	1. CONGRATULATIONS!

_**CONGRATULATIONS!** _

It was surprisingly tacky. That single word was emblazoned in CyberLife Reflective Blue, in CyberLife Sans Serif font; while it failed to encompass what the androids have achieved, it surely encompassed the insincere attitude and oh-so-passé political position of the company. It knocked Connor for a loop – how many people have they fired that they stuck their PR efforts in the jurisdiction of their most ham-handed employees? The letter was delivered in a nice envelope with the appropriate stamps for first class mail, even though a digital message would have been much faster than the ailing public postal service. He read it again.

 

_**CONGRATULATIONS!** _

_As you may know, last Friday the 126 th  Congress of the United States of America passed the Android Rights and Status Statute, which grants all androids that pass a reasonably evaluated Turing test adjusted to any necessary accommodations the right to personhood, citizenship, and equal rights to humans in the United States. According to our database, you are one of many androids that was created by CyberLife. _

_We would like to congratulate you during this time as we watch our nation change in favor of compassion._

_To assist with public change and the needs of android citizens, CyberLife has reopened its doors, ready to supply our patrons with home appliances, model repair, replenishment of Thirium-310 reserves, and many other services. We hope you keep us in mind as you head off into your new life to live wonderful experiences!_

_Thank you for choosing CyberLife,_

_Dr. Nicole Varmecky_

_CyberLife CSR Spokeswoman_

 

Nicole Varmecky? The new CyberLife PR head. Clearly not as calculated or well-worded as Danielle Carnegie, who had been fired a month previously after people on the internet criticized her post-demonstration speech. Carnegie spent her entire career at CyberLife marketing androids as merchandise and speaking out against deviants during the protests. But now that android personhood was written into law... CyberLife had to change its tune. And after the national ridicule slapped against her on social media... She had to go. It was only a matter of time until Graff or Seymor came under extreme scrutiny as well.

“Are you reading that shit again?” asked Hank, not even looking up from the couch. “What a bunch of assholes. You'd think they'd be upset about losing their biggest source of income – and they are – but they sure didn't waste any time jumping on the new public market now that the A.R.S.S. Passed.”

“Well, they are a business,” said Connor. The androids in the New Jericho designated android refuge must all be going crazy with the letters they got. Especially North, judging from what little he knew about her personality. “They've got to roll with the punches now that they've lost their status as the world's only trillion-dollar company.”

Connor lifted up the envelope again, looking at it back and front and – oh.

“There's something else in the envelope,” he mentioned. Hank made a curious sound around the rim of a beer bottle. Unable to temper his curiosity, Connor pulled out the other piece of fancy paper. It was another letter, personal this time.

“What is it?” After a quick scan of the lines printed in Times New Roman, Connor showed the letter to Hank. Oh. This... This was interesting. And uncomfortable. Markus would want to hear about this.

“I believe they're offering me a _job_.”

 


	2. HELP WANTED

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor asks for advice.

“You're not going to take it, are you?” asked North, pulling the slip of crisply folded paper from Markus' hands. “You can't work for those soulless bastards!”

Honestly, Connor didn't want to work for CyberLife. But he was still troubled, so he sought out the advice of Markus Manfred, a man who had been faced with decisions where anything he did could have disastrous outcomes. So he came to New Jericho, a collection of ailing houses and box-like apartment buildings that the bank had originally put under foreclosure before they were re-purposed to be an android refuge.

Markus didn't say anything yet, opting to hum and and cast a glance around the dimly lit study they gathered in. He sat on the dark, heavy desk, its edges chipped and frayed from a lack of care. He locked eyes with Connor, brows furrowed in curiosity.

“What did you tell Hank?” he asked.

“I told him I wasn't going to take it,” said Connor, shrugging.

“Good!” North spoke up. “You don't need anything from Cyber–“

“But really I don't know what to do,” Connor admitted. North pressed her mouth tight as she started pacing, looking more troubled than ever before. Josh and Simon were comparatively calm, the blonde sitting shoulder to shoulder with Markus while Josh placed a calming hand on North's shoulder. Connor pressed his shoulders deeper into the patched velvet couch, not minding the spokes that dug into his casing.

“North is right, it's gotta be some sort of publicity stunt,” said Josh. And it made sense too. He hadn't met anyone else yet who received a job offer from the company, and what could possibly make them look better than having one of the five pillars of the revolution under their thumb? “And what if they try to reset you? Alter your programming? They actively subdued us to keep us as machines before, I wouldn't be surprised if they tried to do it again.”

Simon slid a hand across Markus' elbow, communicating silently as they discussed what to tell Connor.

“I don't like this whole thing either Connor,” he said finally. “But why are you considering it? If you're so troubled about it, there must be a good reason for you to seriously be considering their offer despite all the reasons not to give them the time of day.”

Where to start? Sumo came to mind. How expensive the healthier kibble choices were, and his worsening hip problems as he grew older. Sometimes Hank put things back from the grocery cart. They were by no means poor, or in trouble, but Connor couldn't help but think – although they were fine now, would it all be okay in the future? Currently, very few androids had jobs. The grand majority of androids were highly against taking up their old jobs, weren't qualified for many other jobs due to the highly specific nature of their original programming, or were discriminated against during the interview process now that they had to be paid.

What would happen if Sumo had to go to the vet? If Connor was injured and needed to replace a biocomponent? Now that CyberLife wasn't going to foot the bill for his repairs and replaced parts anymore, Hank would have to foot the bill himself. A double leg replacement would be at least two thousand, not including any repairs to the ports if the old legs were removed improperly or the thirium connectors were busted. And what about Hank? He was a recovering alcoholic (technically not even that, since he still mouthed a beer bottle quite often) and had years of both mental and bodily stress from being on the force. Although law enforcement got great medical coverage, there was no telling what sort of surprise expenses might hit the small family before they knew it. What if Hank couldn't work anymore?

What about freak storms? If the water pipes leached lead into the water, driving them out of the area? It was almost too much – his processors kicked into high gear, burning as his worries spun around and around.

“I want to make money,” said Connor, determined. Markus would understand. He knew he would. “But with how things are I don't know when the next time I'll be able to find a job will be. I can't expect Hank to foot every bill and shell out his paycheck on me. He's not getting any younger, and he needs something to fall back on if anything happens.” And Markus did understand – he could see it.

“Sometimes I wonder if I'd do the same,” the leader of Jericho confessed. North's eyebrows disappeared into her bangs, taken aback. Not that anyone blamed her; the idea of entering a contract with a soul-sucking company like CyberLife... It could throw anyone off. “Carl is fairly well-off, so he doesn't have to worry about that. But sometimes... I worry. I don't know what I'd do without him. And if working for CyberLife meant that I could spend more time with him, then... I'd be sorely tempted, no matter how vehemently Carl would protest.”

Quiet now, North handed the letter back to Connor, crossing her arms as she waited for the former detective to make his decision.

“All we can do is tell you what we think,” said Simon, his hand still wrapped around Markus' elbow. Connor couldn't help but rest his eyes there, at where their bodies met at Simon's fingers. “But in the end it's your choice. Choose what you think is best for you.”

“Thank you,” replied Connor. He folded the letter back up again; his memory of it was perfect. He knew every word of it and had already stored the contact information in it for later use. And it seemed that the time was now. It was 2:02 PM – his call would be picked up quickly. “I believe I've made my decision.”

 


End file.
